Things to Do Together
by Seshennu
Summary: It's rare that they get to take a vacation together, and even more so when everything on their vacation goes right. This is not one of those times.


I promised in Chapter Two of The Mutation that if I didn't finish Chapter Three in about two weeks, I'd post a Sniper/Spy one-shot. Well, this is it. I got the idea from a post in imagineyuorotp on tumblr. It was just too good to pass up...

Team colors can be any that you'd like. Choose your favorite flavor of Sniper/Spy; it's all good!

* * *

"I am going to break into that disgusting van you call home and slit your throat while you sleep."

Sniper chuckles nervously, turning his head away from the road long enough to look at Spy.

"No, you won't," he counters. "You'll get blood all over that nice suit of yours. You know how much trouble you have to go through to keep it clean."

"True," Spy says. "Then perhaps I will smother you with your pillow. Watching your desperate struggle before you fade into nothing will be far cleaner."

Sniper casts him quick glances out of the corners of his eyes as his fingers tap against the steering wheel of the rented junk heap they picked up just days ago.

"Uh, maybe a bit extreme there, mate. I mean -"

"You do not get to speak to me about 'extreme', _mon ami_," he says, lips curling into a snarl with the words.

Sniper goes rigid, mouth set in a straight line. "Are you really that upset about it?"

Spy flicks his knife in response, flipping and twirling it over his fingers with a practiced ease.

"I mean, if it wasn't me that did it, it'd be any of the other blokes that came over to help. Thought you'd be grateful -"

"_Grateful_?"

"Less pissed!" Sniper quickly amends with a wince as the tip of the balisong presses into his neck. "C'mon, mate, I'm driving."

"I don't care," Spy says, but lowers his weapon regardless.

Sniper rubs his neck, trying to divide his attention between the man and the road evenly. There is almost no traffic in the street, but he is familiar enough with his countrymen, if not the city itself, to know to watch for sudden late-night revelers.

"I honestly didn't think you'd want the poison to set in. Saved you from quite a bit of trouble, there."

"Bullshit!" The knife finds its way to Sniper's face again, prodding at his scar. "You made it worse! I had to go to the hospital! You're lucky I didn't get an infection."

"Piss is sterile," Sniper mumbles, quickly jerking his face out of reach of the knife again. "An' the nurses washed your face off soon as you got in!"

"You are a dead man," Spy says, settling back in his seat. "The only question is _when._"

"You - Look, I told you not to go swimming!" Sniper's calm breaks and he slaps the wheel. "The jellyfish all come out this time of year, I said! But no, you were '_too hot._'"

"What is the point of going to the beach if not to swim? Why even suggest it?"

"Well, we, we could've rented a sail boat to start! There's dolphin-watching tours and boats with glass bottoms to look at the reefs in! There's a whole row of tourist shops to go through. You could've done anything, but you had to go _swimming_."

Spy fumes silently, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. Finally, he says, "I will not take the blame for this."

"Course not. You're an irresponsible, reckless idiot that can't take responsibility for his own actions."

He does not need to take his eyes off the road to know what sort of look he is being given. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Look, we don't get many days off as it is, and even less of them run together like this. This was supposed to be vacation. So what do I gotta do so you get the stick out of your ass and we go back to enjoying it?"

"Blow me," Spy snaps, crossing his arms and turning to face the window.

A heavy silence falls over them, broken only by the air that whips through the half-open window.

After a time, Sniper asks, "Did you... Did you want me to pull over, or can it wait until we get back to the hotel?"

Spy turns to face him again, slowly. His jaw has gone slack, features twisted into disbelief.

"It's just, well, most everyone's turned in for the night or too drunk to notice, but we're not exactly out of sight around here. If I'm gonna, I mean, it probably shouldn't be in public. There's a, a few laws we'd be running into there."

Sniper glances at him from the corner of his eye and sees his expression has changed little.

"Er, but if you really wanted, if that's what it'll take to -"

"That was not a serious suggestion!"

Sniper stiffens, then looks pointedly away from Spy as much as he can without driving into a lamp post. He grumbles as a heat creeps up his neck to his cheeks.

"It was a serious question."

Spy groans and covers his face with one hand, muttering to himself in French. Sniper is about to tell him to forget it, forget the whole thing, and if he wants to smother him, go right ahead and do it, he's not going to stop him, not after that embarrassment, when Spy chuckles.

His hand slides partway down his face to reveal his eyes and a hint of a grin. "So, you would blow me, would you? But what if I suggested some other activities? Things that we could do _together_."

"Well, I. Uh."

"Yes?"

Sniper swallows hard and steps on the gas pedal, late-night revelers be damned, and speeds them back to their hotel. The tires squeal as he pulls into the closest parking space to the door as he can, and it's all he can do to keep himself from running straight to their room. He unlocks the door and hurries in, flipping on the light switches, and feeling a bit unsure what to do with himself now that they have arrived.

Spy follows him in at a much more leisurely pace, hanging his jacket on a nearby hanger. He loosens his tie slowly and flashes him a grin.

"It is a bit late, don't you think, mon ami? Perhaps you would like to change into something a bit more comfortable before we begin? Freshen up, or brush your teeth?"

"Right," Sniper says, yanking a set of clothes from his dresser and making a beeline for the attached bathroom.

"Don't rush," Spy calls after him. "I will need a few moments to prepare myself."

_Holy dooley._

Sniper pauses in his tracks for a moment as a number of thoughts run through his mind. He shakes his head as if to scatter them away, and enters the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He changes quickly into checkered pajama bottoms and a loose-fitting sleeveless top. He splashes water on his face, combs his hair then musses it back up again. As he brushes his teeth, he eyes a bottle of cologne. Should he? No, no. They weren't going _out_ anywhere, after all.

Sniper waits as long as he can stand to, enough time that he thinks he won't appear quite so desperate, enough time for Spy to... to...

He splashes a bit more water on his face, dries himself off and takes a deep breath.

"Are you all set out there?" Sniper asks, poking his head out through the door.

"You can come out, now. I'm ready for you."

A shiver runs down Sniper's spine and belly.

He is not sure what he is expecting when he rounds the corner, but Spy sitting at the table with a chess board set up in front of him has certainly not crossed his mind at all.

"What's all this?"

"I thought it would be nice to ease into the night with a quick game of chess. I find it helps me to relax when I'm on edge. What do you say?"

Sniper blinks in surprise. No, he definitely was not expecting this. He glances down at the board, then back up to Spy. The man does not appear on edge at all, but his poker face is legendary. Could Spy be, behind the mask, as nervous as he is? Or is it solely for Sniper's benefit? He thinks he has been keeping himself mostly... _partly_ in check, but if he is that obvious, well, maybe he _should_ calm his nerves before getting into it.

"Suppose a quick game couldn't hurt," he finally says, slipping into the chair opposite Spy.

Three very long, very unsuccessful games later, Sniper slams his hand down on the table as he jolts upward, the action toppling most of the game pieces onto the floor.

"Is something wrong?" Spy asks, smiling sweetly.

"It's four o'clock in the bloody morning," Sniper growls. "I'm going to bed."

Spy keeps his smile in place as Sniper turns off the lights and grumbles harsh words too low for Spy to make out, as he falls into bed and angrily throws the covers over himself.

His revenge, Spy thinks, was well worth the outburst. And now that he knows for sure that Sniper has been harboring feelings more intense than just friendship, he can always pursue something legitimate.

Later, perhaps.

When Sniper no longer feels like strangling him.

* * *

The prompt for this, in case you haven't figured out what it was, can be found at bit. ly (slash) XAR4xI

Just remove the spaces and put a slash where it says - the link's been shortened because tumblr links are ten lines long, geez.

One day, I will learn how to write a story with a 100% happy ending for all involved parties. Just because Sniper/Spy is my OTP doesn't mean I always want them to be happy and content with each other! ;) These two are at their best when they're getting under each other's skin, I think.

For those of you still waiting on Chapter Three of The Mutation, it's getting nearer to done, but I spent the first week with a case of writer's block, and the second putting in some overtime at work, which saps my creativity. So, it's coming, just not as well or as quickly as I'd like, sorry.


End file.
